


The Threshold

by 2SpaceGays



Category: Batwoman (Comic), DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/F, Honeymoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:31:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9980567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2SpaceGays/pseuds/2SpaceGays
Summary: Kate and Maggie return from their honeymoon. Maggie's POV.





	

Taking the elevator up to our penthouse, Kate's tired smile replicated in the shining mirrors to either side of the door, each one offering a slightly different perspective of her familiar face, I think that it’s strange being back in Gotham.

Two months, three countries, countless hikes, and more photos than either of the memory cards we’d taken with us had been able to hold, and we’ve finally made it back to downtown, crime-capital-of-the-world Gotham.

I didn’t think I’d be disappointed to be back. Eight weeks, 56 days, is a long time to be away from my detectives over at Central. I’d spent the first four of those weeks obsessively checking my email and expecting a crisis only to find rudimentary updates about what cases had been solved, how the trials had gone, and who had fallen down the stairs and fractured their elbow chasing a perp – Driver, naturally.

One month in, and cell signal-free, gorgeous _Gorges Du Verdon_ had put an end to that, and when we’d finally made it back to civilisation, I found the MCU to be still in one piece – though my suspicions about whether the emails were being filtered to keep me from spending my honeymoon on my phone hadn’t been confirmed until we’d seen the city for ourselves.

I think Kate is more antsy about getting out on the street than I am, and if it wasn’t for the promise we’d made to stay in on our first night back I’d expect she’d already be racing for her Operational Heart, despite the jetlag.

I wouldn’t hold it against her.

I’m not even surprised that her train of thought has already made it there.

“No computers,” she reminds me with a pointed look as we wheel our suitcases out onto the landing.

Exhausted as I am, I can’t help but laugh, “No capes.”

“Yes, _captain_.” The oft-use phase is more playful than it is berating, accompanied by that sly smirk that lets me know _just_ what my wife is thinking. No capes or badges leaves an awful lot of time for ourselves, as we discovered these past two months. Still, I’m skeptical about how long we’ll be able to keep our eyes open once we’re inside.

“Keys?”

“Allow me.” They jingle in my hand as I purposefully squeeze around Kate and her bags to get to the door – far more effort than it would have been to just hand her the keys, but I have something in mind.

The door creaks inwards to reveal our apartment just as we left it, but I don’t go in. Not yet.

“Mags? What is it? You fall asleep opening the door?”

I turn back to her, feeling sheepish. This is something I’d expect from _Kate_ , not something I’m usually the one to instigate. But excitement for this one last thing has been buzzing in my chest all the way home from the airport, and I’ll be damned if I don’t go through with it.

“Kate Kane,” I start, watching her tilt her head as her mouth pull into a slow grin that says she already knows what’s coming – because of course she does, “Will you let me carry you across the threshold?”

“Only if I can do the same to you,” she bargains, already sliding her heavy backpack from her shoulders. Laden with souvenirs, gifts for Jamie and for Kate’s family, she sets it gingerly against the wall.

“Fine.” I’d anticipated as much, anyway, “But me first.”

The packed suitcases are wheeled out of the way and Kate, still beaming, loops one arm around my shoulders to help me hoist her up, bridal-style, into my arms.

She’s about as heavy as I expected, and I’m pretty sure the dreamy look she directs up as me is exaggerated – but then, who knows with Kate? – but I let my long strides take us over the line where the wooden floorboards meet carpet, careful her head doesn’t collide with the doorframe as I do.

It occurs to me that I don’t know where to put her down. If she wasn’t intent on returning the favour, if our bags weren’t still outside, I might have carried her all the way into the bedroom to drop her onto the mattress. I might have crawled atop her for a kiss to make her laugh into my mouth, to just see where it would go from there.

Instead, I stop a few paces inside the door and it’s abundantly clear to both of us that I didn’t think this through.

Kate just laughs that breathy, contagious laugh of hers and swings her legs until I set her down, “My turn, my turn!”

Hands on my shoulders, she pushes me back out into the hallway and holds out her arms.

More cautiously than she had, and not entirely trusting that she’ll be able to hold my weight, I settle my arm across her shoulders, “Don’t drop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, babe.”

I’m already grimacing as she bends her knees to scoop one arm under the back of my legs, sure this is going to end in disaster, with one or both of us on the floor, possibly concussed, possibly with a fractured elbow. A trip to the hospital won’t be a great way to end our honeymoon.

But Kate’s stronger than I am, and even though I can tell it isn’t _easy_ , she gets me up off my feet. “I _know_ you’re not scared of heights,” she teases as I hesitantly loosen my grip on her rumpled shirt.

I let out a strained chuckle, but instead of carrying me inside, Kate leans down for a tender kiss I instantly regret not having thought to do. I’m too concerned with not banging my head or scuffing my boots against the wall as she hobbles across the threshold to _really_ appreciate it – and, thankfully, she sets me down just a few steps in. I wouldn’t have liked being outdone there, too.

I give her a kiss I _can_ appreciate, until she laughs into my mouth and has to pull away, “I guess the honeymoon isn’t over yet.”


End file.
